


Meet Me Under Violet Roses

by yayabreathe



Category: King For Another Day, SiIvaGunner
Genre: First Meetings, Libraries, M/M, Original Character(s), Romantic Fluff, Siivagunner - Freeform, i hope ppl don't need too much context to understand this, overly flustered john is my best hc it is so good, theyre gay. not much else to say tbh, yes this is a siiva fic i feel like i dont need to clarify that but eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yayabreathe/pseuds/yayabreathe
Summary: Oh Yeaaaah Woo Yeaaah
Relationships: John Notwoodman/Nick Lushwood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Meet Me Under Violet Roses

Johnathan Notwoodman never really took the time to flesh out new discoveries. He was what some would call a workaholic, though not by choice. His job always required such an insane amount of time and attention, he'd never really have time for anything else. He could deal with it, of course. He was used to this kind of pressure for a couple of years now, considering he tried to get busy the second he gained a sentience to avoid having to deal with the problems that came with it. A good five or so years had passed since, and nothing really changed.  
That day... Everything did, somehow. It was a particularly enjoyable spring day, so he decided to go out for a walk for once. Despite being close to his home, he had never actually ventured this far. As he passed through the buildings, he found an interesting looking library he had never seen before.  
As he approached the entrance, he peeked through the gates. It was surrounded by a garden, bright and full of bushes and flora of the most varied shapes and colours. The walls surrounding it were painted the same way as the library itself: a smooth, light red, filled to the brim with ivy. The actual building was rather small, but still a sight to admire. It had a very distinct style, with white stone carvings dividing its corners and floors. From the looks of it, it was a hundred year old building that had been renovated to give it a slightly more cozy look.  
John stared through the gates for another second before placing his hand on the bars. The rusted metal felt cool at the touch, and its dark green paint had started to peel off. Curious, he pushed the bars, opening the gate.  
The entire garden area seemed to jump out much more once he stepped in. Bushes with rhododendrons and forsynthias popped with colour, and huge, hundred year old oak trees stood, tall and imponent, among the bushes. Salvias and mallows and hyacints mixing and blending into eachother. He admired them and their presence, forgetting about his worries for a moment. It was truly a place to lose the senses.  
As he resumed his train of thought, he picked up his pace as well, heading towards the semi-opened library door. It seemed to attract him, somehow. Maybe it was from its grandness, or the longing wish for discovery John still had in a repressed corner of his mind. Grabbing the handle, shining gold from the sunlight, he finally stepped in.  
The interior was decorated in a much more humble fashion. Its light yellow walls and multiple windows allowed the sun to come in, giving it a warm, mellow atmosphere. Sunlight hit the dark wooden floors as well, erradiating throughout the entire building. Red couches and metal stands with pamphlets for city activities stood on the entrance. The library was almost empty, and quiet reigned.  
Stunned by the calm of its inside, he seemed not to notice the librarian standing at a desk a few meters away. Said one looked at John, curiosity in his gaze, as he saw a woodman so similar to him skip across in such a distracted manner.  
John slowly made his way to the tall black shelves of books that were grouped together and started observing their categories, written down in name tags on the bottom of each shelf. The existentialism tag seemed particularly cared for, having a completely different font and colours on its corners. Ignoring a category that gave him no interest, he slid his way to the law and firm section. Grabbing a random book of the shelf, he made his way to one of the tables and put his briefcase down on one corner. If he had to study cases, he might as well do it somewhere peaceful and quiet.  
Through the remaining hours of the afternoon, he stayed there, filling paperwork and verifying sources from the book he had taken. Once he was finished for the day and the sky started to dim, he started organizing and packing his things, bringing the book with him. He owned a couple of the type, but it'd probably come in handy sometime.  
As he began heading towards the librarian's desk, eyes focused on keeping his briefcase from collapsing, he was greeted with a voice.  
"Hey, d'ya need anything?" it said. It sounded very joyful and spontaneous, while also keeping its cool, recollected.  
John looked up, placing the book on the desk, finally finished with his organizing frustrations.  
A single look all it took.  
His eyes, despite tired and sleepless, erradiated with joy and excitement, brimming with thoughts and questions left unanswered.  
e exhibited a mustache consisting of two small sun yellow pecks on the corners of his face. Two dark green leaves, light like paper, lurked by the side where a stick was usually seen. a berret, red like velvet, was fashionably placed on the side of his head.  
Something clicked at that exact moment.  
John Notwoodman had never fallen in love before.  
He always thought of it as a temptation only fools could fall for, ignorantly filling their heads with nothing but empty thoughts. He always imagined it as merely a vain way to distract people from their moral obligations.  
Yet the way this man looked at him; it erradiated such warmth and joy. Such a feeling of complete bliss that felt as if it would never dissapear. His mind was filled with roses, and they filled every corner of his mind.  
"Hello!" after what seemed like both seconds and years, the silence was broken. It was clear this man didn't really know what else he should say face a situation like this, but he tried to make it sound as bright and opening as possible, as if he were talking to an old friend. "Do you need any help?" he smiled.  
"Uhhh.... I, uhm... Uh, how do I put this... Hmm.... Ah..." as his face grew hotter, whatever John wanted to say had long since dissapeared, replaced with a long line of nervewrecked mumbles. "I'm... Uh... I'll... I'll be back." he said, placing the law book on the table and making a run for it. Confused, the other woodman just smirked and nodded accordingly.  
The silence echoed through as John made his way to the entrance, taking only his briefcase with him. He'd never felt himself so overwhelmed on every level. So alive. Feeling fear. Hope. Anxiety. Excitement. Thing he hadn't felt in years, if ever.  
The dark indigos and violets of the sunset clashing with the bright colours of the city in front of him. The quiet of the garden rested in one corner, and the noise of the city slowly made its way through. A fight, two sides, smoothly blending in and out of the picture.  
His brain was running at a thousand miles per hour. He could feel the boards at his chest flicker rapidly as well. Everything in this was pure unbridled madness to him. Being like this, being in love... Was the worst best feeling he could go through.  
Through the traffic, through the lights, he had one thing on his mind. Out of millions, only one truly ressonated.  
He'd come back, someday.  
And that day, would too, change his life.


End file.
